


Like the Universe

by SummerNightmares (BlackDog9314)



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Angst, Implied Sexual Content, M/M, Pre-Series Dean Winchester, Pre-Series Sam Winchester, Sibling Incest, Wincest - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-11-15
Updated: 2017-11-15
Packaged: 2019-02-03 02:22:31
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 368
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12739068
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BlackDog9314/pseuds/SummerNightmares
Summary: "...Fires crept through spaces long left soft and blurred. Notes slipped under the doors, frozen to the floor. We believed everything. Leaves blown beneath the eaves, whirring like a nest of wound-up starlings.We were young, we didn’t heed those things. If birds were singing, we were loved. We were young, like the universe, like our mothers were. Like these words."





	Like the Universe

**Author's Note:**

> This is my first foray into Wincest. Please be gentle.

            “What?” Dean’s asking him.

            Sam shakes his head, blinks and wonders what he said at all.

            He and Dean are tangled together like a spool of fishing wire in the back of a car in the garage near the hotel. It’s almost 3 in the morning and Sam knows he has to leave soon.

            But he hasn’t been able to bring himself to tell Dean that he’s making good on what must have sounded enough like a bluff that Dean hasn’t seen it coming.

            Sam turns and presses his face into the side of Dean’s neck, smelling sweat and gunpowder and cheap, chalk-white soap. He hooks blunt nails into Dean’s back, his sides, trying to pull him closer even though the only way that would be possible is if Dean climbed inside his skin.

            Sam closes his eyes.

            “Can we…just one more time?” he asks. He knows it’s not what he asked the first time, but Dean doesn’t comment on it. He just nods and slips his fingers under the hem of Sam’s t-shirt, touches him soft and almost sweet, the way he always touches even when Sam is anything but, even when Sam asks for more, or digs his fingertips into Dean’s thighs and rakes them down.

            But now, Sam lets his brother touch and kiss and screw the way he wants, knowing Dean’ll hate him once the sun rises and he realizes he actually left.

            “Oh, god,” Sam whispers brokenly when Dean fits inside him not long after, both of them wet and hard and trembling.

~~~

            When Sam leaves Dean in the garage, sleeping soundly with his leather jacket folded beneath his head, each step feels like dying. His old boots clunk on the concrete and every iteration reminds him of what he’s leaving behind.

            _Thunk._

            Heart.

            _Thunk._

            Soul.

            _Thunk._

Brother.

~~~

            The early-morning sky is pale pink and yellow and dashed through with darts of red and blue, like blood and flowers live above him in the clouds.

            Sam knows Dean won’t call for weeks, maybe even months, and feels something furl closed in his chest, maybe one of the indigo spring blossoms he walked beneath as he made his way toward the bus station.

**Author's Note:**

> Thoughts? Criticisms? Please leave me a comment :)


End file.
